Utter Darkness
by elegantmesspotter
Summary: She would dream of utter darkness, of someone writhing in agony. She longed to comfort the poor soul, she always woke up, frightened, and sobbing; but every night she seemed to get closer. The hurting one was there, beyond her reach, her fingertips had brushed cloth and from the visceral reaction, she knew two things, one it was definitely a he, and he was in terrible pain.
1. Chapter 1

Utter darkness, the empty void, all he knew was pain and silence. For years, he seethed with rage, and impotent fury. The punishment was masterful, his lips sewn shut with the thread of Bestla, his hands, feet, and magic bound, he was cast into the void, a place where time ran differently and all the laws of the universe ceased to exist. Alone with only his thoughts, and a mental clock ticking away the years, he spent decades writhing in the torment of starvation and eternal darkness without the possible relief of death; such was his immortality. Centuries past as he justified his actions, and the multitude of deaths caused by his rebellion. When the first millennium, came and went he began to believe that he had gone mad, he could almost hear the voices of those he had wronged as they began pleading with him, pleading for release from their own personal purgatories. His actions had doomed souls and the darkness in him festered, he refused to accept his culpability in their torment while he still suffered his own. As the second millennium dawned, his defiance began to crack. The weight of his actions began to gnaw at his pride and self-righteous indignation. After, a third millennium, regret began to press so heavy upon him, he wondered if Odin's plan had been to break him completely. Slowly, over the next few centuries he came to accept his responsibility for his actions and despair, for there seemed to be no relief for his torment. His pride shattered, his ego bruised, and his body broken, he began to pray, as he had not since his youth. Prayers not for mercy, he knew that ultimately he deserved this punishment, but for death for he would rather face the judgment and punishment of the afterlife than the hell of this half-life.

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She was seriously considering going to see a shrink. In the seven months since the attempted invasion of New York, she felt like someone was watching her, like all the time. She knew that S.H.E.I.L.D. had her under surveillance, and that was really no biggie. She had got gotten used to that after their little godly encounter in Puente Antiguo. But in the last few weeks, her dreams had become terrifying as well. She would dream of utter darkness, of someone writhing in absolute agony. She could not see them, only sense that they were there just beyond her reach. She longed to comfort the poor person, but they seemed to be so very far away. There were muffled cries of torment, and she always woke up, sweaty, frightened, and sobbing; but every night she seemed to get a little closer. Last night had been the worst by far in the darkness, she could not see and she fought against the weightlessness that surrounded her. The tormented soul was there, her fingertips had brushed cloth and from the very visceral reaction, she knew two things, one it was definitely a he, and two, he seemed to be in more pain than she had even known.

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The voices had quieted as he came to accept his punishment, and as it became penance instead of discipline, the voices ceased altogether. The constant ache of hunger never left him, and the lack of movement had withered his frame. He was but a dry husk, only his immortality kept him breathing. His prayers did not go unnoticed; as he hung there weightless in the dark void, he began to sense the presence of another. The first time he was so startled by the sound of a female voice calling out in the darkness that he could do nothing. His voice was badly damaged long ago in the first few decades when he still screamed his anger through the stitches sealing his mouth shut. There was a tremor in her voice; she was out of place somehow. She pleaded for help, called out trying to free herself from the void, and only calmed somewhat when she realized she was not alone. Shortly after she called out to him, she left the void; her presence was simply no longer there. Months passed and she returned, not as terrified but still scared. She spoke rapidly into the void repeating that it was just a dream and that she soon awaken safe in her bed. As a cramp passed through his weaken body he moaned, the anguished and pained sound of a wounded animal. In the darkness she turned, her voice now projecting towards him rather than away from him. She called out trying to get him to speak to her. He could hear her frantic movements as she attempted to draw closer to him; and then again, she was gone. It became a repeating pattern, every few months she would return. She spoke to him, trying to learn more about him as she fought against the weightlessness of the void, seeking to draw closer to him. Each visit she came just a little closer. He began to anticipate her return and questioned in his mind the meaning behind her presence. She was not Aesir, that much was obvious from her speech patterns. She was a mortal from Midgard, and her time in the void confused him. The void was a place of punishment for the worst criminals of the nine realms. On her last visit, she had come so close her fingertips had brushed the tattered material at his shoulder. The groan of pain that leaked out from behind his stitches had been deep and raw. She again disappeared. He knew she would return and knew his appearance would frighten her. He had received no nourishment, or hydration in millennia. While it was not required to keep him alive, a lack thereof had ruined his body. To his dismay, he realized he was ashamed of his reasons for his imprisonment and of his physical state.

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She stayed up as late as she could force herself, her dream the previous night had felt so real; the tattered material under her fingertips so tangible that she expected to awake with it still clutched in her hand. Who was he? What did the dreams mean? Normally she didn't go for all the hokey dream interpretation stuff that was really more her Mom's shtick. She googled it; being in space was all about a representation of independent thinking, the stranger in her dream supposedly signified a part of her that was repressed or hidden, and pain could be a reflection of actual pain or could be a warning of a health problem. 'Well crap' she thought, that doesn't help in the slightest. She drank a large coffee, played on tumblr, and watched a few episodes of Doctor Who from her box set; she even decided she should write a real letter to her Mom. About five sentences in, her forehead smacked painfully against the table as she startled awake. She had dozed off, it was after 3 a.m., and she couldn't fight it anymore. She crawled into bed and was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

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When she returned she was silent. She floated so close to him, that if he were not bound hand and foot he could have reached and touched her with no difficulty. "Hello?" she spoke softly. He could only grunt in return. He could sense that she turned to face him. "Hey, are you alright? What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked quickly. Again, he grunted in response. "Are you like mute or something? Well no of course not, duh Darcy. Okay are you hurt? Well again duh," She reached out blindly, her fingertip brushed his cheekbone, and she flinched. "Oh my gosh!" His skin was dry and thin as paper, stretched over his sharp cheekbones. He pulled away with a moan of pain as she reached for him again. "You_ are_ hurt, ohmygosh, ohmygosh. Okay, how can I help you?" He groaned in frustration, there was no possible way she could actually do anything of benefit. She reached out again and he attempted to writhe away from her, her touch though gentle was agony, he had hung bound hand and foot in the weightlessness of the void for millennia, and even the mere brush of her fingertip was excessively painful. Her hands came to either side his face and gently began search blindly for injury.

A raw moan of pain gargled in the back of his throat. Every nerve ending she had touched seemed on fire from the warmth of her hands. She drew back apologizing profusely. "Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, I'm so sorry, I am so so sorry. I feel like I'm supposed to help you but how can I help you when I can't even touch you without hurting you."

She continued to ramble on as he breathed heavily through his nose willing the pain away. As the searing agony of her touch faded, he realized a small amount of the pain that he had come to live with here had been relieved. The irony was not lost on him; he had to endure pain in order to relieve his suffering. He had to willing allow a Midgardian to hurt him to ultimately be healed. His pain had frightened her though. He knew she would not willingly touch him again, for fear of hurting him. He had faced battles before; he understood that such pain was often necessary, such as the pain of resetting a shoulder that was out of joint. But how to make her see this? They were both blind in this great darkness, and his mouth was stitched shut. Perhaps she could remove the stitches, in theory only the one who had placed them, could remove them, but she was an anomaly. He understood from her previous diatribes, that somehow, her Midgardian mind was here in corporeal form while she slept; though she believed this just to be a dream. Ahhh, but the power of a dreamer…

He grunted at her to gain her attention, she stopped talking and reached towards him with a soft sad sound. He could tell her hand was just to the left of his face, his senses heightened from the long time in the darkness. Swallowing back the scream of pain, he pressed his mouth to her palm. Pain tore through his mouth as she jerked her hand away. "Holy frick on a stick! Your mouth's sewn shut! What kind of monster would something like that? Okay so I need to figure out how to get that loose right?" As he struggled through the pain, she disappeared again. He muttered curses through the stiches into the darkness.

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She stumbled through her apartment with bleary eyes, it was only 5 a.m. Glasses forgotten in her daze, she rifled still half-asleep, through the junk drawer in her kitchen. Clutching her prize, she shuffled to her couch, flopped down, and was fast asleep once more.

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His frustration spent, he hung limply and settled in to wait the intervening months till she would return. To hold the madness at bay and to keep his mind sharp, he returned his thoughts to the equations he had been trying to riddle out before she had arrived. It was then a great surprise that she returned only a few hours later. "Hey, I think I got something that might help. I don't know how I did it but I was kinda half-asleep and I grabbed the seam ripper from the kitchen, and now somehow I've got it here. I don't know though, it seems to hurt you every time I touch you, maybe you could do it?" She asked hopefully. He grumbled through the stitches. "Okay I got no idea what that meant. How bout we try this, grunt once for no and twice for yes. Okay?" He sighed heavily 'This is so demeaning' he thought, finally though he grunted twice in response. "Good, okay now we're getting somewhere. It hurts when I touch you, right?" Two grunts. "Can you remove the stitches by yourself?" One grunt. "You want me to try to remove the stitches?" Two grunts. "Are sure? I really don't like hurting people and I think it's probably really going to hurt…" He interrupted her rambling with two forceful grunts. "Okay, wow, never thought a grunt could sound so demanding."

He took a deep breath as she reached for his chin. Carefully feeling along the stitches, she found where they began and gently placed the seam ripper under the first stitch. "Okay, this is probably going to hurt like a lot so brace yourself." He clenched his jaw against the pain, her touch did not burn him as badly as it had the last time but he knew _if_ she were able to remove them, the agony would be terrible. "I'm going to count down from three and then pull okay?" He grunted twice impatiently. "Alright, let's do this. Three… Two… One… pull!" As the thread snapped, an anguished moan slipped out.

"Ohmygosh, I don't know if I can do this." Blood seeped slowly from where the first stitch hung loose. With steady even breaths, he forced himself to ignore the pain and grunted twice. "Really? You want me to keep going? Maybe we could just do like one stitch per night," she whispered. He grunted once, he would much rather get it over and done with, there was always the remote possibility that she would not return.

"Fine…" She placed the seam ripper under the first stitch on the other side of his mouth. "Okay same as before…" He clenched his jaw and determined not to cry out again. "Three… Two… One… pull!" He inhaled sharply through his nose, but did not make any other noise. She dropped her hands to her sides and he heard her mutter softly to herself. The thread was loose, now if she would just unlace the damn things he would be free to speak again instead of grunting like an animal. He grunted several times to gain her attention. She reached forward and gently placing her hands on his face felt for the ends of the thread. She then carefully began pulling the thread through the holes in his lips. His breathing came harsher because of the pain, and as her hands grew wet with blood, her fingers moved a little faster over his ragged skin. She quickly pulled the last stitch free and he yanked his face from her hands, and threw his head back as a primal scream tore from his mouth. He heard her flounder away from him sobbing.

Slowly the pain subsided, and he could hear her soft whimpers. "Thank you," it was all he could manage, his voice was rough like the grind of rocks in a landslide, and his vocal cords burned even with those few words. He heard her sniffle a few times and then clear her throat as though she was going to respond but then she was gone again. His mouth was free, he began to laugh even though it pained him, it was a terrible and haunting sound that rang through the dark void. As his mind and heart calmed, he saw out of the corner of his eye a single distant star…


	2. Chapter 2

"Damn," she groaned as she awoke. She felt like she had a hangover. Her head was pounding, her body ached, she wasn't in her bed, and she couldn't remember how she'd gotten where she was. Squeezing her eyes shut to keep out the early morning light; she sat up carefully, trying not to jar her aching head. After a few moments her eyes adjusted a bit and she cracked one eye open. Her living room, well that explained why her back was achy; her couch was modern and trendy but definitely not good for sleeping on. Through bleary eyes, she glanced at the clock above her TV.

"Shit shit shit! Jane's gonna kill me!" She pushed herself up as quickly as she could manage and stumbled to the bathroom. The bright light over her mirror only added to her misery. With no time for a shower, she grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and screamed. Her hands were covered in blood.

Suddenly it all rushed back to her, her attempts to stay awake the night before to avoid the dreams, the stitched up guy, finding the seam ripper, removing the stitches, and the blood, oh god the blood. She fell back against the door and sank to the floor of the bathroom as she fought the rising nausea. She was running late, she really didn't have time to go into hysterics but she was having a hard time fighting it off. With a sudden burst of movement she was at the sink, hot water running, scrubbing manically at her hands. Surely, there was a cut or something to explain the blood, it was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a…

BANG, BANG, BANG, "Ms. Lewis, are you alright in there?"

"Yeah, just a sec Cap," she called out. She grabbed a towel, ducked into her room to grab her glasses, and put them on as she hurried to the door.

Standing just outside her door with an anxious look on his face was Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He looked over her head and into her apartment. "I heard you scream, what's wrong?"

She stammered, "Hey Steve, I had a crazy nightmare, and I just realized I overslept, so I really gotta go get ready, but thanks for the concern." She stepped back and moved to close the door but he grabbed her hands.

"And the blood?"

She looked down at her hands; there was still some blood on her hands and now the towel as well. "Umm, I grabbed a knife wrong when I was going to cut open my bagel?" She offered weakly.

He carefully turned her hands over inspecting them. "I don't see any cuts," he said quietly. He gently pushed her out into the hallway and went into her apartment to check. Jane and Bruce came around the corner, and hurried down the short hallway towards her. She leaned heavily against the wall across from her door.

"Darcy, what's wrong?" Bruce asked. She shook her head as tears clouded her vision. "Steve?" He called into her apartment.

When Steve came out, he was tense. "JARVIS, can you ask Stark to come down here please?"

The AI responded politely, "He has been informed of your request and is on his way down."

"Thank you JARVIS," he turned to Darcy. "Alright, you want to tell me what really happened?" He held out the bloody seam ripper. Tears flowed and she struggled to speak, to breathe. She shook her head. No, no. It couldn't be real. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream. Black spots crept into her vision. No, no, no. Dreams aren't real. She slid down the wall and blacked out.

"Back already?" a gravelly voice asked. She shook her head.

"Darcy… Darcy, come on wake up." She blinked at Jane. She hovered over Darcy like a mother.

"Ungh," she groaned intelligently. She was lying on her back on the floor in the hall. Jane, Bruce, Steve, and now Stark too were crowded around her.

"Oh, Auntie Em, I had a dream and you were there, and you, and you too." She pointed at the guys surrounding her.

"Well, she must be doing better, the sarcasm is back." Jane said with a wry grin.

She sat up slowly and leaned against the wall. "Hey guys…"

Stark held out the seam ripper, "Hey Lucy, you got some splainin to do…"

Jane shook her head, "Great, a pop culture snark off, Alright let's at least let her get off the floor we can do this in the main room." They all stood and made their way down the short hallway to the main room.

**(Look out! MAJOR SPOILERS for Iron Man 3)**

Shortly after Thor's departure from Puente Antiguo, Stark had been in contact with Jane and there had been serious talks of collaboration, but then of course everything in New York had gone crazy. Jane had been sent to Tromso in the middle of the night, Erik had been mind-controlled by Senor Psychopath, and SHIELD had informed her that because of her connections with the events in Puente Antiguo, she worked for them. It ended up being a very temporary situation though. Stark's Malibu home got blown up, Pepper got kidnapped, and so Stark blew up all of his suits, and had the glowy-thing removed from his chest. They both moved into Stark Tower in New York and Stark decided he wanted to focus on something entirely different.

**(Okay you're safe now)**

Which brought them all here; Bruce was working with Stark on something completely unrelated. Steve, who was pretty much homeless after the Chitauri destroyed the part of New York he was living in, had moved in as well. Erik was unmind-controlled and working on some secret government stuff with SHIELD. Jane was at Stark Tower so often working crazy hours that moving in only made sense, and after finding out about Darcy's predicament Jane talked Stark into working with SHIELD and making them let Darcy come work for Stark Industries. So Stark and Pepper had the top three floors, after the R and D floors, and the next two floors down were arranged in to swanky apartments (courtesy of Pepper, of course). On the residential floors, there was a main room that spanned two stories. It was huge and open, set up like a living room with a few TVs and comfortable couches, and a nice kitchen in one corner.

They all filed into the main room and sat, except for Stark who paced around the room. Darcy began to fidget as they all stared at her. Jane started in, "Darcy…"

"Just gimme a sec, okay?" she groaned. With a heavy sigh, she explained about the crazy dreams that had plagued her the last four weeks, about the stitched up guy and the seam ripper and to waking up with blood in her hands. "I just don't get how it could have happened. I mean dreams are just dreams right?" She looked pleadingly around at the gob smacked faces surrounding her.

Tony Stark sat heavily in one of the chairs opposite her. "You know kiddo if it were April first I'd would've given you a prize for a great prank, but something about this rings true."

"Of course it rings true! Why would I lie about this?" she whined indignantly.

"Oh, I don't know maybe you need to cover up a murder or something." He smirked and leaned forward invading Darcy's personal space, reached under her glasses to force one eye open wider, and inspected her pupil.

She pushed roughly at his shoulders. "Hey, whoa, personal space dude!"

"There aren't any signs of hallucinogenics." He sat back in his seat with a humph. "Bruce?"

"Let's look at this logically. Darcy says it was a very realistic dream; there are no cuts on her hands and no other evidence other than a bloody seam ripper. We test the blood on the seam ripper and have JARVIS record her as she sleeps." Bruce rubbed at his eyes. "Look, this really isn't my area of expertise; all I can do is offer suggestions. This is the kind of stuff that Betty and I went through to figure out what was going on with 'the other guy'." The rumpled scientist stood, rolled his shoulders, pulled out a hanky from his back pocket, and gestured for Stark to hand over the seam ripper. Stark dropped it into the handkerchief; Bruce gave a quick nod and left for the labs.

"Despite what everyone thinks to the contrary, I'm not really a perv, I don't have any cameras hooked up in any of the apartments, so that'll take a little rewiring." Tony rubbed his hands together in glee. "But, this could so totally be worth the extra few hours of work." Stark cringed as Darcy rounded on him.

"No way! I will move out and go back to SHIELD but there's no way I'm letting you hook up cameras in my rooms!" She turned to Jane pleading, "Help a sister out, please? I gotta a great big bed you could sleep with me tonight. I know you're a real light sleeper, you could tell them if anything weird happens."

"Wow, Lewis, I didn't know you swung that way, I really should…"

"Tony…" Jane growled, "…remember that sexual harassment clause that lets me out of our contract free and clear? The one that gives me all the rights to everything we've worked on together?" Tony paled a bit. "You're getting dangerously close to a line you don't want to cross." She turned to Darcy. "I'm sure we can figure something out, if you don't mind that I tend to hog the covers and that I toss and turn a lot."

"Thank you so much," Darcy gushed.

"You guys are real buzz kills you know that? Fine no cameras." Tony stood to follow Bruce's exit. "But, this is still my Tower; if I think anything dangerous is going on here I reserve the right to protect the people in this building, even if I'm protecting them from themselves." Tony stalked out of the room.

During the whole conversation, Steve had been quietly observing. "It's kind of odd, but this time I find myself agreeing with Tony. The camera wasn't a bad idea Ms. Lewis." Steve stood and left without another word.

The rest of the day was spent working on data transfer and other menial tasks as Jane and Tony went nose to nose on some science detail that flew right over Darcy's head. She was fairly certain that the detail wasn't all that important but both Jane and Tony were still ticked off about the disagreement earlier. When the two of them worked as a team everything was awesome, Jane's work with Stark was all focused on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. SHEILD had discovered the reason that Thor hadn't returned was because somehow the bi-frost thingy got broken. So Darcy helped out as much as she could, while the real brains, Jane and Stark, did the important stuff.

Later that evening when they finally finished the work for the day Jane and Darcy headed down to Darcy's apartment. Dinner was Ramen noodles again, Yeah! The day had been so normal that she had almost forgotten about the drama her dreams had caused, except as the night wore on, she became more and more anxious. As Darcy went through the motions of her bedtime routine, washing her face, brushing her teeth, donning her pjs, fear began to creep up on her. The whole, it's a dream but it's more than a dream thing, was freaky as hell.

She wanted to help him, she'd always had a thing for helping wounded creatures; a baby bird that fell out of its nest, a squirrel with a missing tail, the fawn lost in the woods behind her house, a stray dog with some really nasty scratches. Time and time again, her mom had to call animal control to have them take care of the animals when Darcy had taken on more than she could handle. She had scars from the worst occurrence. The stray dog hadn't wanted help or anyone near it for that matter. Her left forearm had borne the brunt of the attack; it had required about thirty-five stitches and almost three months of physical therapy. Something about this guy gave her the same vibe as the dog. He was hurt, and he seemed more dangerous for it.

She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and checked with Jane before she went off to bed. Jane was still sitting at her kitchen table working out an algorithm for the test she wanted to run on her new equipment in the morning. "I'll be there in a few minutes." Which was Jane speak for an hour or so.

"Don't you think the guys'll be mad if you're not watching me?" Darcy grinned, when Jane was busy with astrophysicist stuff nothing else mattered.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, like I said just a few more minutes." And when Jane looked down at her notebook Darcy knew she was gone again, her mind sucked into whatever problem she was trying to figure out.

She crawled under her covers and stared at the ceiling tiles. It was so weird, she wanted to help the guy, but also she was way freaked out because it should have simply been a dream, but then again it was far more. As she lay there, she was overwhelmed by questions. Who was he? Why was his mouth stitched up? Why was she there? Was she going crazy, was it all in her head? Was it a dream or was it real? She giggled at herself… "Of course it is happening inside your head Darcy, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" Okay, Dumbledore quotes, really not helping right now. She rolled over clutching the water bottle a little tighter. She took a deep calming breath, counting backwards from 250 by sevens (her mom's trick), she got to 166 before her mind was too muddy to realize she fallen asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_She took a deep calming breath, counting backwards from 250 by sevens (her mom's trick), she got to 166 before her mind was too muddy to realize she fallen asleep._

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"159, 152, 145, … 13…8, … … 1…3…1"

"Odd greeting, 124?" His gravelly voice cut through her and she gasped. "Hello Darcy."

His voice sent shivers down her spine, 'Hot damn, even his voice sounded dangerous!' He had a kinda British accent and the way he said her name was wicked. The growly rasp of his voice was low and animalistic. It gave her all kinds of butterflies. "Bad thoughts, Darcy bad thoughts, change the subject!' "Hey, how you feeling?" She asked softly.

"My throat is parched, and my shoulders ache." He paused for a moment. "Who are you? Why are you here? What is your purpose here?" he growled. He wanted answers, she confounded him, and he wanted the truth. He focused on the sounds of her movements, on the sounds of her breathing. He could not see her, but even in blindness the god of lies, could sense truth or falsity. The single distant star provided no light of consequence; it merely served as a reference point in the darkness.

"I'm nobody really, but I guess I already told you my name is Darcy. As for why I'm here, I really don't know. At first, I thought this was all a dream, but now I'm not so sure. I woke up with blood on my hands, your blood." Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as though she struggled to find the right words. "Like I said before, I feel like I'm here to help you, but I'm really not sure how."

"You have already helped immensely, by releasing the stitches that bound my mouth." He grinned, though his lips were still healing and it burned a bit. "I don't suppose you have any skill at picking locks, do you?"

"What, why would you need something like that?" she stuttered.

He rattled the bonds behind him. "I am bound," he answered simply.

Fighting the weightlessness, she flailed around until she was behind him. Carefully she reached out trying not to jar him, and tested his restraints. His arms were pulled back behind him. There were thick metal cuffs on his wrists, chained to a pole that held his hands about a foot apart. The top pole was connected to two other poles, in the shape of a capital letter i. The bottom pole held his feet about a foot apart as well, ending with chains that bound each ankle in a thick metal cuff like the ones on his wrists. Somebody really didn't want this guy getting loose. She worked her way back around to the front of him. Her voice was soft and timid, "Why are you bound?"

He was quiet as he contemplated his answer. He hated being reliant on anyone, but now he found himself completely at her mercy. She was from Midgard, one of the realms he had attacked. Though it had been millennia since the attack, her people may still carry anger and hatred towards him. The truth would have her seeking retribution instead of the kindness she seemed wont to bestow on him now. A lie seemed far more prudent. "I was captur…" but the words froze in his throat causing him to gag and cough, a terrible rasping sound.

"Oh my gosh," she gasped. "Here, I brought water; I thought you might be thirsty."

He pulled away in panic, his throat closing up as he tried to lie to say that he was fine.

"No you're not fine," she barked, and grabbed hold of his shoulder, her grip so sharp it nearly brought tears to his eyes. "Hey," He continued to thrash around. "HEY!" she shouted. He finally went still. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, just calm down and drink some water and we'll talk about it. I'm sure whatever's going on can't be all that bad." She said soothingly.

Her grip gentled and her hand slid up from his shoulder to his neck, her thumb resting lightly at the corner of his lips. He allowed her to pour some of the water into his mouth. The cool water soothed his raw and aching throat. He could feel as the water rushed through his system healing and refreshing him. He moaned in pleasure as he felt some relief to the constant ache that had plagued him for millennia. She gave him another drink, and he could feel his body rehydrating. He felt renewed. The water seemed to heal him far more the few sips that she had given him should. He pulled away from her, "What magic is this?"

"What are you talking about? It's just water." But as she thought about it, his voice sounded different, the heavy rasp was gone and as he spoke, his voice wrapped around her like the smoothest satin.

"That is far more than water, I feel rejuvenated. Who are you really, and what have you done?" He hissed softly, but it seemed far more sinister than had he yelled.

"I didn't do anything I swear! It's just water!" she insisted.

He could sense her trepidation but also her honesty. As far as she was aware, it was truly just water that she shared with him. Perhaps it was nothing to do with the water but with the girl herself then. Her touch though painful, healed him, and the simple water she offered him renewed him. Her fear was detrimental to her continued assistance though, he needed to reassure her. "My apologies, my lady," he purred. "I have been lied to in the past, and I merely sought the truth. I can see now you have spoken the truth. Are you a healer?"

She snorted, "Me, a healer? No way, I'm just a lab assistant." He had some serious mood swings, and it felt like he was trying to avoid the question. "So why are you bound?"

The god of lies found himself incapable of lying; each attempt caused his tongue to stick to the roof of his mouth. The lie gagged him; he choked on the attempt. He coughed and gagged and she offered him another drink of water. His head drooped. "I am a criminal, and I am bound for my crimes," he finally whispered feeling defeated.

"How long have you been bound like this? What could you have done to deserve a punishment like this?" She reached toward him and gently laid her hand on his cheek. "Your skin is so cold," she whispered almost as an afterthought.

As it had last time, her touch was like fire on his cold flesh; though it burned, it also soothed him. Her tenderness surprised him. "I have been bound for over three thousand years."

She gasped and pulled back. "How is that possible? Your mouth was stitched shut; you would have starved to death."

Her retreat brought both comfort and pain. While the release of the searing warmth of her hand was a relief, the fact that she recoiled from him, hurt in a way he was unfamiliar with. "I am not human. I am of As…" His tongue stuck, "I am from Jot…" again his tongue stuck. She gave him another drink as he contemplated his answer. He was confused, he could understand that part of his punishment would be to prevent him from lying, but why then could he not tell her where he was from? "I am not human; I do not require nourishment to live."

She was quiet for a long time as she thought about what he said. When she spoke, he could hear the hesitation in her voice. "What did you do? What was so terrible that you've hung here in this, this dark void, trussed up like this, with your mouth sewn shut, for three thousand freaking years? I can't think of anything awful enough to deserve this."

He slowly told her his tale though he was incapable of using any names, names of the realms, of the All-Father, Thor, Frigga, not even his own name. His story came out haltingly, as he had to try several different ways to explain. "There are many different planets, and from the beginning there was one that considered itself greater than all the others. About four thousand years ago, another planet decided to take over a third planet. The first planet came to the aid of the third. Defeating the people of the second planet on the third, the war followed the second planet's people back to their home. The people of the first planet came to the second planet and completed their victory over the people of the second planet. The king of the first planet took the second planet's greatest weapon. While on the second people's planet, the king found an abandoned infant, the bastard son of the second people's king. The second people were a monstrous race, and the infant was small and so, seen as unfit to live. So the king took the infant and raised him as his own, the boy was only a few years younger than the king's first-born, and so the boys grew up together, neither knowing the younger boys true origin.

As the boys grew the elder brother was big, strong, and brave and the younger was small for his age and though very clever and a skilled strategist, he was physically weaker than others his own age. In a society that prized strength and valor the younger son was seen as pitiful and was mocked. He lived always in the shadow of a brother that loved him immensely but in a world that would never accept the strengths of the mind as opposed to the strengths of the body." He took a deep breath and she gave him another drink of water. He hated his own history, and the fact that he needed to tell her about it, galled him. He needed her help though and from her rapt attention he knew that revealing this to her was one way to gain her sympathy and his sad story might gain him his ultimate end, freedom.

"My history was not always pleasant. My saga was affected by those who sought to use me for their own gain. When we were grown men the truth about my parentage came out in the worst possible way and at the worst possible time. I had always felt ostracized and I went mad. The people of the first planet considered the people of the second planet to be monsters, and raised their children with that belief. I had been raised to believe that the second race was monsters, and so I believed myself to be a monster, and set out in my madness to prove just how monstrous I could be. Regicide, patricide, fratricide, and genocide all these things did I attempt in the madness that ensued. All told when I was finally captured almost two years later, there were almost a thousand deaths caused by my actions, the man whom I had once called brother had nearly been counted amongst the dead, and the king of the second planet, my true father was dead. And so by the decree of the man I once called father, I was bound and my mouth sewn shut. His words were 'The boy I once knew is dead. What remains is a creature I do not recognize.' Had it not been for the woman who raised me, he would have likely put me to death. She begged for my life and so instead he cast me here into the void, where I have remained for some 3,250 years." He took a ragged breath and she gave him a drink of water. Her compassion surprised him.

"Whoa, dang dude. I don't even know what to say, that's all kinds of messed up." She sighed heavily. "Just a heads up, I've been here for a while so I'm probably gonna wake up soon. I can't pick a lock but I might be able to find some bolt cutters. However, right now I'm kinda under surveillance. My friends freaked out when I woke up with blood on my hands. As for all the rest, I don't even know I mean betrayal and mental illness are big contributing factors here, but wow, you didn't just go Columbine, you went 9/11. This is really big."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to…"

"Oh, yeah sorry earth stuff. Look, I don't know if I should help you. You told me all about all this terrible stuff you did, and I heard a lot of excuses but not really any regret. And don't tell me how sorry you are now cause it's not gonna feel genuine. I'm not bringing the bolt cutters till I know I'm not making a huge mistake by helping you. I need to know if I can trust you…" she floundered. "What's your name?"

As he tried to speak, his tongue locked tight, no matter what name or pseudonym he tried to give her all he could do was cough and gag. "My apologies again my lady, but it appears that I am forbidden to tell you my name, every time I try to tell you my name my throat closes up."

"Hmm, not really helping with the whole trust thing. How do I know you're not lying?"

"When I try to lie or revel anything to you that might give away my identity, I gag on my own tongue. It's quite the fitting punishment for someone once known for their ability to lie, and to manipulate with words."

"So is that why your story was so vague?" She smirked, she enjoyed the back and forth with him.

"Yes, it appears that complete anonymity, is my punishment for my desire for prominence." She was certain that had he not been bound his arms would be crossed in front of him and he was probably pouting. "However you may be able to guess my name." He offered almost as an afterthought.

"Oh wait, I know this one! Your name is…" she paused for dramatic effect, "Rumpelstiltskin!" she dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

"You are very strange, and that is not my name."

"Oh come on, it was meant as a…" she vanished and in her wake, there were two new stars.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"…joke. Awww, dangit!" she grumbled. She rolled over and found the other side of the bed empty; it looked like Jane had never come to bed at all. She laid there in the quiet and thought about everything he had said. He was an alien and he was a criminal. She was seriously thinking about helping a guy who had caused almost a thousand deaths. But, then again, he had been punished for over three thousand years for it, and his punishment, especially the part about his mouth being sewn shut and so no food or water for the whole time, definitely fell under of the category of cruel and unusual. She was sure they didn't even go that medieval in medieval times. It seemed like what she always imagined purgatory to be like. She had been raised Catholic, though she wasn't sure what she believed in anymore. Meeting an alien that ancient people thought of as the god of thunder kinda had a weird effect on blind faith.

One thing she was sure of though, she was probably going to keep having these quasi-dreams and whether she helped him or not, she wasn't telling anyone else about it. They already thought she was weird enough. She smiled up at the blurry ceiling tiles. The alien criminal, was hers, they were connected somehow, and even if all she ever did was talk to him in her dreams for the rest of her life, even if she never helped him to get free, this was hers. Her one little bit of something that no one else had, or could do. There had to be some reason that she was being drawn to him. She sat up and put on her glasses, next to her on the bed was the half-empty water bottle, and it was still sealed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The stars were an interesting development. Did they mean something or were they unimportant? He wasn't certain of anything anymore. She was a simple Midgardian mortal; her touch burned yet it also healed him. She offered him water and it renewed him. She came to him in her dreams and yet was as corporeal as he was. She surprised him; he thought for certain his tale of woe would sway her to his side. He could not lie, but he still had his silvertongue, truth could be manipulated. Mortals were usually so easy to sway but she held her ground, she was not convinced simply by his tale that he was truly a changed man.

As he hung there, he thought about it. Was he a changed man? The blinding fury at the All-Father's betrayal no longer gnawed at him. He did regret his actions though he had not had the opportunity to speak about it with the girl. In the last few centuries, he had come to accept that though he still despised the way Odin had handled everything, he could see the All-Father's reasoning. The burning desire for vengeance had fizzled out, and all in all, he felt hollow. Only the girl's presence soothed him, and now he had months to wait till he would see her again.


	4. Chapter 4

Where the hell was Jane? Darcy got up, went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and her hair. Morning routines finished, she headed out to the kitchen to make some coffee. Jane was hunched over the table scribbling away like a mad woman, with one hand fisted in her hair. Darcy waited for the coffee to finish and poured Jane a cup. Jane could be a real grouch without her morning joe. Sliding the cup in front of her, Darcy began to wonder if the woman had slept at all. "Jane?"

Jane didn't look up, she just continued with her calculations. "Yeah, yeah just a few more minutes. No coffee. You know if I drink it this late at night I'll never get any sleep." She wrote a few more numbers, glanced up to the top of her page and grinned in triumph.

"Um, hello. It's not late it's early you're not going to get any sleep anyway."

"What?" Jane looked up in surprise, "Oh my god, well at least it was a productive night. I finished that stubborn algorithm that I've been fighting for the last three days. Now I'll be able to use the new equipment Tony and I created." She yawned and gave Darcy a weary smile. "How about you? Any weird dreams about a dark void and creepy stitched up guys?" She gratefully began sipping at the hot coffee.

"Nope, just regular dreams about guys with sexy British accents with a little side of bondage." Darcy winked and pulled out a box of cereal. "Hungry?"

Jane laughed. "Yeah I guess. Maybe it's a good thing I didn't come to bed last night, with dreams like that you might have gotten a little gropey-feely with me." She stood and stretched her cramped back. As she worked out the kinks in her sore muscles, she stepped around Darcy and pulled the milk out of the fridge. Darcy put out the bowls and spoons and they sat down together. "Oh and by the way, TMI!" They broke out in laughter, and that was the last time Jane asked about the weirdness of Darcy's dreams for a long time.

Both Stark and Steve grilled Darcy and Jane about Darcy's dreams off and on again, for the next couple of weeks. Darcy was always careful about her answers, not too far from the truth so it would be easy to remember what she had told them. Jane stayed in her apartment for about a week and when nothing seemed to be happening, Steve and Stark finally backed off.

She continued to have the dreams though, and her dream visits fell into a regular pattern. At first, she would try to guess his name, though usually that didn't last long. She never even seemed to get close, and her inability to figure it out seemed to annoy him. They would trade playful insults, she was glad to find someone who could match her in sarcasm. She always brought him a bottle of water and she would give him drinks from it periodically. He told her vague stories of his childhood and she told him of the inanities of her life, her childhood, the silly things she did as a rebellious teen, and her time in college. She was careful though, the fact that he had been a criminal at one time did not escape her. She never spoke of the names of her co-workers, or of where she worked specifically.

On her third dream visit after she had removed the stitches, she noticed the stars. They talked about it, and it seemed the number of stars doubled after each time she visited. Within a week, there were more than she felt like counting, though he informed her, the number continued to double. Though the stars were numerous, they were quite distant and provided very little light. By the end of the second week, the light was dim but she could see his outline. It was like looking through the dark in her apartment, enough light to make things somewhat visible but only just. He was tall, probably well over six foot, and very lean. His hair was black, tangled, and fell to about his shoulders. He wore what looked like LARPing clothes, like straight out of a renaissance fair. A white tunic laced all the way up to his throat, what looked like black leather pants, and black boots. His skin was different; it was dark, the color didn't look human (though it was hard to tell in the dark) and he was scarred, like one of the tribal people on National Geographic. His bone structure was enviable, if he had a little more meat on his bones. As it was, he was painfully thin. She offered to bring him food but neither of them was certain how food might affect him in his emaciated state. They talked a bit more that visit and shortly before she left, he asked her again about the bolt cutters. She gave him the same response as she always did, that she'd think about it and she said goodbye as she felt herself waking up. She sat up in bed that morning and realized that if she could see him then he could see her. She usually only wore a tank top and boy short panties to bed. Well, that was going to have to change.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merciful Odin, the woman was a torment, a pleasant torment, but a pain in the ass nonetheless. He shook his head; he was even picking up some of her speech patterns. She seemed reluctant to touch him, she did so only as much as she had to help him drink. She continued to visit him, and they were slowly learning more about each other though she only seemed wont to share trivial banalities. The stars multiplied after each of her visits and when she arrived the last time, he was surprised to see she wore very little clothing. She was short; standing beside him the top of her head would likely barely reach his shoulder. Her dark hair was thick and wavy, her eyes bright and expressive. There was not quite enough light to see the colors but he thought perhaps her eyes might be blue. She was vibrant and full of life. She was sarcastic and completely unafraid of him. She always brought him water and it was a welcome relief. They debated about the meaning of the stars and the reasons behind her presence. They never came to any real solutions but the banter was enjoyable. She was intriguing. Her reluctance to touch him disappointed him. Her gentle touch upon his cheek was…

Damn, he was waxing poetic about some foolish Midgardian mortal. Her lifespan would be but a few more decades and then she would fade away. She was young now but, he did the numbers in his head, she had been visiting him every few months for almost ten years now. Though that didn't seem right... He shook his head, he needed to focus on how to make her bring the bolt cutters. His magic had been bound and he had no idea how to leave this confinement. Did Odin know of her presence? Would the All-Father have permitted her help otherwise? If the girl did bring the bolt cutters, would the release of his hands return the use of his magic? If Odin did not know he would likely not approve, would she be in danger from the All-Father's wrath? So many questions and not nearly enough answers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She hurried through her day anxious to return to bed and to visit him again. She debated about what to sleep in; it took her nearly as long to pick out pj's as it would normally take to get ready for a date. She shook her head, this was ridiculous. He was just a guy she visited in her dreams. Her dream guy… Tall, dark, and snarky, the bad boy… Oh hell.

What if it was really all in her mind, what if it was all a big cosmic joke? Ha ha ha no alien criminal, Darcy's the loser waiting in a prom dress on her front porch for the asshole quarterback who never showed, again.

He was real, He Is Real! She pulled on her comfortable yoga pants and a simple long sleeve t-shirt. He was real, and he was not her date, he was a convicted criminal serving disproportionately long sentence for his crimes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The number of stars had doubled yet again, and now she could truly see him. He was blue. Okay so that was different, she knew she was staring but she couldn't help herself. Alien and all that, but the blue surprised her, like Megamind or the aliens from Avatar, or an honest to god Smurf. He was blue. "Hi," she whispered.

"What, why are you looking at me like that?" he growled, her stare was unnerving.

Holy crap his eyes were blood red, not just the whites, but his whole eye, pupil, iris, and everything. "Umm, you're blue. It's not a problem or anything it just surprised me." She rambled quietly.

He tried to turn away from her as he grumbled in some guttural language, she was pretty sure that the grumbles were alien curses.

"Hey, don't worry about it, it doesn't bother anything. I've watched plenty of movies about aliens with different colored skin it just surprised me that's all." She gently laid her hand on his cheek to make him turn towards her. "Hey really, it doesn't matter." She insisted.

"Do not touch me," he demanded. She pulled back immediately with a hurt look. "I am a monster." He turned away from her again, anger tearing through him, he shouted at void. "You could not even leave me this one mercy? You have stripped me of everything, my magic, my title, my place in any world but this void, and you take even this? I have nothing you have taken even my diginity. I am but the monster you created me to become! Damn you Odi…" His throat seized up and he struggled in his rage. He choked, and gagged, and fought. He could see the girl watching him, her eyes wide with concern. Her compassion only infuriated him further.

She watched as he raged at his jailers. His reactions reveled so much. The blue must be native to the second planet he talked about and he must not usually look like that. So what? She frowned, he was raging like a great big blue toddler, "Hey!" she shouted, trying to get his attention. He continued to fight and rage against the restraints and against his own closed up throat. She grew tired of his tantrum, opened the water, and flicked some of it at his face. He turned on her and she was glad he was still bound. At the moment he looked every bit the monster he claimed to be. "Hey, you know what? This isn't getting you anywhere. You're going to end up choking on your own tongue if you don't calm the fuck down!" she ordered.

His eyes grew wide and as the water dripped down his face, some of the fight drained out of him. She carefully approached him and gave him a drink of the water to help calm his aching throat.

"Look, I don't know what your problem with being blue is. It's a nice shade and truth be told blue has always been one of my favorite colors." She used the end of her sleeve to wipe the water off of his face. "I get that you don't like looking like that but that's not really a reason to have an overgrown temper tantrum. I mean you're what like four thousand years old, right? You're a little old to be acting like a toddler." She glared at him, but he seemed to be calming down. "Do you want to talk about it?" He glared right back at her. "Okay whatever, Mr. Grumpy-butt." She was quiet as she thought about how her mom used to deal with her little brother when he had a tantrum. A huge smile lit up her face as she remembered her favorite way her mom used to get her brother out of the worst of his bad moods.

His expression changed quickly from stubborn sulky pout to wary and a bit unsure as she moved closer to him with a large toothy smile.

"I think someone needs a hug," she said in a singsong voice. He flailed a bit as he tried to pull away from her, but she caught him anyway. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. He thrashed around for a little while making small noises of protest, and finally grew still. Very still, he held himself in a rigid way as she continued to hug him. She could hear his heart thudding away in his chest and his rapid breathing. His tunic was thin and his skin was so cold. She curled around him as much as his stiff posture would allow. She drew in a deep breath, he smelled like leather, and wood smoke, and something that reminded her of cold, snowy days.

He was silent and unyielding, as if he'd never been hugged just for the sake of being hugged. She tried to pour all of her compassion into the hug. This was a guy who hadn't felt cared for in a very long time. Three thousand, two hundred fifty years was a really long time to be alone. He had been punished because he went crazy but that kind of solitude was enough to drive the most normal person nuts. The more she thought about it, the more it began to bother her. He had been brought as a baby to a different world, raised to think the people of his home world were monsters, and then when he turned into a 'monster' the very people he was raised with turned on him. There was no negating the terrible things he had done but he had been punished for it. He needed someone to care for him, to be his advocate.

As she held him, she did something she hadn't done in ages. She began to pray, to whatever deity was out there, to whomever held the universe together. She prayed that his sanity would hold together, that he would understand that she was there for him and that she could truly be the one he needed in this crazy time in his life. Slowly his heartbeat seemed to even out, his breathing became even and steady, and his body seemed to relax. She began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. She looked up to see him gazing down at her, looking so lost, so vulnerable it brought tears to her eyes.

Who was this woman? To see him lost to madness and yet rather than cower away in fear she reached out to him in compassion. There was such genuine care in her expression; the tears in her eyes were nearly his undoing. "My lady," his voice wavered and he cleared his throat. "My lady it seems I will forever be apologizing to you. My outburst was terrible and uncalled for, and I thank you for your tenderness." She smiled at him through the tears and laid her hand upon his cheek.

Her voiced cracked as she whispered, "You needed it, and I'm more than happy to help. Please don't worry about the blue," He flinched a bit. "I think it's a really nice color. And by the way, I think you're way too good looking to be considered a monster." He blinked in astonishment. She gasped and pulled away from him suddenly. "Ohmygosh! It hurts you when I touch you. Are you alright, no wonder you tried to pull away. And you were so stiff, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, I am so sorry. Are you okay I really didn't mean to…"

"I am fine," he laughed a bit. "Really my lady if I had been in any true pain I would have let you know." He laughed softly.

She crossed her arms and mock glared at him, "You're laughing at me."

"No, not really, it's just in all of this, when I have behaved so abominably, your concern is my welfare. It would have been understandable for you to pull away and desire to never come near me again, yet you choose to reach out and show compassion." He took a deep breath. "I have not explained this before. Yes, your touch pains me," She had a terrible wounded look on her face. "It hurts at first. It's as if all of my nerve endings were deadened by the years of being unused. At first touch, they seem on fire and as they begin to become used to sensation again, your touch comforts and soothes." She relaxed and smiled at him.

"I'm glad, that I can help you, I just wish I knew your name." She laid her hand on his cheek again and stared up into his eyes. "I will figure out your name, I promise. It's almost time for me to go. I am so glad it's the weekend. I'm going to spend all day making up a list of names and when I come back tonight I'm going to figure out your name." She grinned widely expecting his smile in response, but he seemed lost in his thoughts like Jane did sometimes when she was working on a particularly difficult equation. "Hey, did you hear me?"

His voice was strange as he looked at her oddly. "Did you say tonight?"

"Umm, yeah, I've been coming here every night for about six weeks. Why what's going on?"

"It's only been six weeks for you?"

"Yeah that's what I just said." She felt the subtle shiver that ran up her spine that she'd come to associate with waking up. "Hey, it's all good! I'll see you tonight!" she said brightly as she disappeared.

He stared off in the distance and thought back, As Odin had readied the spell to cast him in to the void Frigga had said something about time… what was it? She had leaned close… she was whispering about how much she loved him, how not to lose his mind in the blackness, to not let the darkness consume him from the inside or the outside, but there was also something about time. In the moment he was so angry he ignored her. Odin was casting a spell and he was trying to figure out how to undo it. Odin's spell would place a clock in his mind so he would know every minute of his imprisonment. But what had Frigga said? His mind raced as he struggled to remember. The clock in his mind seemed to tick ever louder and he felt overwhelmed by the sound. He screamed until he was hoarse into the empty space surrounding him.

"Time runs differently in the void, there is no equation to match the time spent there with the time spent here. Trust your instincts, my beloved son."


	5. Chapter 5

Bang… bang… bang…

Darcy woke up with a groan, what the crap? Why did she feel like she had a hangover again? The last time she felt like that was… the night she removed his stitches. Hmm… So something about her helping him gave her a hangover magnitude headache. But it wasn't every time. What was the difference?

She groaned as someone pounded on her door again. "Darcy, come on get up!" Jane shouted.

"I don't wanna, and you can't make me!" She shouted back and then groaned again. Noise bad for headache. Must find extra strength Tylenol. She got up put on her glasses and stumbled to the bathroom to raid the medicine cabinet.

Jane pounded on the door again, "If you don't open this door soon I'm gonna get JARVIS to open it for me!"

"Damn, what's her problem? It's fricking Saturday." She grumbled as she tossed back a few more Tylenol than was strictly necessary. "Gimme a minute!" she shouted back to Jane. She splashed a little cold water on her face to wake herself up. Looking up into the mirror, she would have guessed by her appearance that she'd gone several nights without sleep.

"JARVIS will you please unlock Darcy's door for me?" Seriously, what the hell?

"I'm sorry Ms. Foster, but Ms. Lewis has overridden my protocols in regards to her room and I am currently unable to assist you with your request." The AI politely responded. Darcy laughed at Jane's frustrated groan.

"Darcy if you don't open this door in less than one minute, I'm going to shout your full name for everyone and I mean _everyone_, to hear." Jane threatened.

Darcy mumbled curses on Jane as she practically dragged herself through the apartment to the door. "What the hell, woman? Be using my middle name as blackmail?" she growled as she threw open the door to find Jane grinning at her like a maniac.

"We did it! Tony and I, we did it! We got a message to Asgard! We're working on a few more pieces of equipment, the last few calculations, and Tony's gotta create an ARC Reactor for it, but we should theoretically be able to create the Einstein-Rosen Bridge in about four weeks!" Jane pushed past Darcy and was practically vibrating with excitement. "Don't you see? All of the time, all the research, and work, just four more weeks!"

Darcy looked over at her clock, it was 5 a.m. Jane was nearly dancing around the room. "You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you?" Jane nodded vigorously. "What time did you guys get the message through?"

"It was about 3:30 this morning." Jane smiled brightly.

"Well at least you waited till a decent hour to wake me." She rolled her eyes.

Darcy walked to her kitchen to start the coffee; this could be awhile. "Alright, alright, you look like you're going to bust at the seams. Go ahead, what was the message?"

"It had to be real simple, we used one of Tony's old reactors, and we didn't have the power for a long message. Tony's pretty sure SHIELD is gonna bust us for it, but you know better to ask forgiveness than permission. Heimdall is the gatekeeper so I said, 'Hello Heimdall, this is Jane Foster of Earth, we're working a version of a bi-frost, and we're sending a test message. Message: The people of Earth send their greetings to Asgard, and all her people. Thank you Heimdall. Oh and by the way, if you could tell Thor I miss him. Okay, that's all.' That was the message." Jane grinned like a mad woman.

"Alright, tell me the rest." Darcy sighed and Jane gushed about all the science-y details, as Darcy made them both a cup of coffee and joined her at the table. As Jane continued to go on and on about stuff Darcy only half understood she realized how much data entry and other stuff was going to have to be done in the next few weeks and sighed, at least the caffeine and the Tylenol were kicking in. However, there went all her long hours with her hot blue alien criminal. "That's a lot of stuff to do in just four weeks Jane. It's gonna mean a lot of late nights, long weekends and we may even have to pull a few all-nighters. Wouldn't be a better idea not to rush it and maybe try for five or six weeks instead?"

Jane stared at her like she'd just sprouted a second head. "Creating a stable Einstein-Rosen Bridge could be one of man-kind's greatest achievements. Come on Darcy, we're on the edge of doing something amazing, and you're whining about a little lost sleep?"

One look told Darcy that this was not about the science and accolades, but about Jane's need to see Thor. "Okay, I promise I won't say another thing about lost sleep, but I just gotta put this out there, my Mom used to tell me when I was little that 'A hasty job is a botched job.' I know you're way excited about this but please promise me no more tests until everything's been double and triple checked?"

Jane popped out of her chair and began pacing. "Oh my god this is so exciting! Just four more weeks, four more weeks!" She was wringing her hands as she muttered about all the things she had to work on. She abruptly stopped her nervous pacing, and glanced at Darcy with a pleading look. "Oh hey Darcy, I kinda forgot to mention…"

It clicked right before Jane said it, "Shit, you guys pulled an all-nighter, and actually managed to get a message to Asgard. You didn't really come done here to share your triumph, you came down here because there's a huge backlog of data and you can't move on to the next step of the process until I plug all that data into the program I created." Jane was all about the astrophysics and while Stark could create and do computer programs, he didn't want to. So all of the computer work fell to her. Jane had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Oh the toils of being the lowly peon," Darcy sighed melodramatically, Jane rolled her eyes. "Fine, let me eat something real quick and change. I'll meet you out in the main room in say fifteen/ twenty minutes?"

Jane squealed, "Yeah! Hey don't worry about eating, Tony was so excited about our success, he's having breakfast catered in."

"Wait a minute; he's having breakfast catered at 5 in the morning? Geez, only Tony Stark could pull off something like that."

"I know right? Okay, see you in the main room in fifteen." Jane flitted out of the room, still excited beyond anything Darcy'd ever seen.

An hour later found her, Jane, and Stark buzzing around in the lab. The data entry was a pain, Jane's chicken scratch, and Stark's messy scrawl, were even worse than normal because of their haste and lack of sleep. With a very short break for lunch and a few times that she had to get the brainiacs to interpret their own scrawl, Darcy caught up quickly. Jane and Stark had worked on a few adjustments on the equipment while Darcy was busy with the numbers. About seven that evening, Stark ordered pizza and by the time JARVIS informed them it arrived Darcy had finished inputting the final equations. The pizzas were delivered to the main room and they headed down to eat.

They got onto the elevator when Darcy realized that she had left her iPod in the lab. She stopped the doors and stepped out. "Hey guys I forgot my iPod I'll be down in a minute."

"Hey, I left my notebook in the workroom when I got the soldering iron, could you grab it for me?" Jane asked.

"Yeah sure no prob!" Darcy shouted over her shoulder as she headed back to the lab. "Save me a couple of pieces of supreme!" In the lab, she found her iPod beside the computer she'd been working on. She found Jane's notebook on a table in the workroom and as she turned to go, she saw a pair of bolt cutters. Jackpot! She grabbed the bolt cutters and peeked out door. There was no one in the lab or the hall beyond. She took the staff elevator instead of the private one so that she would come down on the other side of the building, further away from the main room. She hurried down the hall, into her apartment, and hid the bolt cutters under bed. She sat for a minute, waiting for her racing heart rate to calm. She felt like spy or something sneaking around like that. She stood up, took a calming breath, and headed out to the main room.

Steve and Bruce had joined them in the main room to enjoy the pizza. Pepper was in a meeting in one of the conference rooms and was going to join them later. Darcy grabbed a can of soda, a couple slices of supreme, and sat by Jane on the couch. "Here's you go." Jane smiled, laid the notebook on the table, put on a movie and they all settled in. Darcy couldn't care less about the romantic comedy. She looked around. Tony hardly seemed to notice the movie; he was busy messing with something on his tablet. Steve seemed puzzled by the movie and Bruce was dozing already. Jane seemed to be the only one really enjoying it. Darcy didn't like rom-coms in general; they're basic formulaic approach to a movie that would appeal to women seemed demeaning somehow. As if modern women couldn't get past, the pretty girl plus nice guy equals happily ever after routine.

Then again, there was something to be said about the desire for a happily ever after. The two point five kids and a house with a white picket fence would be nice. She looked around the room, but considering her current lack of a dating pool, the groom might be hard to come by. Steve was almost too nice, Stark was taken by Pepper (even if he wasn't completely aware of it), Bruce was nice but with major anger management issues, and of course his on again off again thing with Betty. Dating outside Stark industries was kinda out of the question. She rarely got out and even if she did, she'd have SHEILD on her back to make sure she didn't spill any of their secrets. The closest thing she currently had to a guy in her life was the alien she was currently seeing in her dreams. She smiled goofily at the thought of two point five blue kids and a spaceship. She shook her head ruefully, it was silly, she was nursing a serious crush on a guy she was only mostly sure even existed. He was a really old blue alien criminal, of course he didn't look old and he'd served a seriously disproportionately long sentence. And Thor was a really old alien and he was hot too, so that kinda negated the weirdness on that point. And blue, well Bruce was green when he went Hulk so that one was checked off too. He was good looking too, no matter the blue and scarification. 'Oh crap!' she blushed, she had told him that she thought he was hot! Damn her penchant for sticking her foot in her mouth. He seemed to take it well though. Maybe he didn't hear things like that often. God, he had even been hot when he was raging mad.

When he had calmed down, he had given her a look of such longing, it made her heart ache. He was so lonely, not just from his time in the void, it seemed like he had felt isolated most of his life. Finished with her pizza, she placed her plate on the coffee table and, curled up on the couch, her chin on her knees as she stared through the television. They knew so little about each other but she wanted to overcome that. Would it be safe to set him free? He had some anger issues but he'd also calmed down fairly quickly. The bolt cutters would have to wait awhile. But he had said that her touch helped him and he had mentioned that his shoulders were sore. She bit her lip as a naughty thought crossed her mind. She could give him a massage to help his shoulders. She wasn't sure about releasing him yet but she could touch him and it would be totally safe, sorta… her thought processes devolved after that to R-rated places that involved her, her alien and a lot less clothing.

About an hour in to the movie, Tony jumped to his feet and told them he had been notified by JARVIS that SHEILD was in the building and headed to the lab. Bruce woke up, took one look at the anxious faces around him, and headed to his apartment.

"Shit, shit shit! They are so not taking this away from me again!" Jane shouted as she, Stark, Darcy, and Steve ran for the lab. They made it to the lab before SHIELD got there and stood in front of the doors, Jane and Darcy panting. Not a minute later, the four of them were confronted by over a dozen fully armed SHIELD agents, led by Agent Hill.

"You cannot have my research and my equipment." Jane declared.

"Umm our equipment." Stark corrected. "Agent Hill, overriding my security systems yet again? This is becoming a habit you really should call first. Though I have to say, you guys are slacking I expected you here much sooner." He gave the agent a false smile.

"We registered extraordinary energy readings coming from your labs at 3:27 a.m. this morning. We want to know precisely what's going on here." She said curtly.

"Private research that's none of your god-damn business." He answered in kind.

"Cut the bull-shit Stark, I'm not Coulson; I won't dance around this with you. We know you got a message through to Asgard. We want to know what the message was and how you did it."

"Damn straight you're not Coulson." Pepper came around the corner as Tony bristled. "What goes in my labs none of SHIELD's business and unless you… oomph" Pepper elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hello, I'm Pepper Pots, and you are?" She asked politely holding out her hand.

The agent looked at Pepper's outstretched hand and pointedly ignored it. "I am Agent Maria Hill with SHEILD and unless Mr. Stark cooperates, everything in your R&D department is about to be confiscated."

Pepper's eyes hardened slightly, but it was Jane who spoke first. "All you want is to know what the message was and how we did it?" Hill nodded briskly. "I can provide you with a transcript of the message but I think the 'how' is a little above your education level, Ms. Hill." It took a great deal of restraint for Darcy not to shout, BURN!

Agent Hill smirked, "Well that's why I brought someone who would understand. It's funny but this was exactly how I hoped this would go down. As of now, your project will be under observation. Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig will join you until the project's completion and will report back to SHIELD everything that goes on here during the mean time." Erik and an agent Darcy was unfamiliar with stepped forward from the group.

"Et tu Erik?" Darcy scowled. He only ducked his head a bit.

"Are we clear Mr. Stark?" Agent Hill asked.

"Crystal," he bit out.

"I expect a full report, including transcripts, by 0800." She nodded to Agent Barton, as she and the rest of the agents turned to leave.

"I'd say it's nice to see you Robin Hood, but like this, not so much." Stark grimaced. "Come on, we'll catch you two up." Stark led Erik and Agent Barton into the lab. Pepper followed the agents out determined to make certain that they truly left.

Darcy groaned, this was going to take forever. She really wanted to see her alien. She grabbed Jane before she went into the lab. "Jane do you really need me here?" she whined. It was almost nine, if she went down to her room now she might still be able to make a decent list.

"No, I guess not…" Jane sighed. "…but since we're not going to be able to get anything else done tonight, let's meet here early. How about 5:30?"

Darcy shook her head. "No way! You got me up way too early today, and tomorrow is Sunday! Eight."

"Six"

"7:30"

"6:30"

"Seven, it's the earliest you're going to get me here. I mean gotta get up and get ready so I'm still getting up awful early." Darcy insisted.

Jane rolled her eyes, "Fine but don't be late."

Steve had relaxed after the SHIELD agents had left and was leaning against the wall observing the banter. "I'm headed back down to the rooms I'll walk with you."

She smiled at him, "Sure Cap!" They walked to the elevators and most of the way to her apartment in silence.

"Ms. Lewis…"

"Darcy," she insisted.

He faltered. "Umm yeah, you know if there's anything you need to talk about I'm always here."

"I swear my dreams have been normal, nothing crazy." She sighed; she thought they'd gotten past that.

He gave her an odd look, and then a boyish smile. "I wasn't talking about your dreams Ms. Lewis. You seemed to be in deep thought during the movie. I know Dr. Foster is busy right now working on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. I'm just offering to be a friend."

Awww, he was so sweet, "I think I may just have to take you up on that offer, Steve." She smiled. "But you gotta remember to call me by my first name; it'd be a little weird trying to be friends with someone who called me by last name all the time."

"Like the way you always call Tony, Stark?"

"Well, it's a little different with him. He gets on my nerves so much it's hard to consider him a friend. Though Jane says he can be a really great guy. I guess I just haven't had a chance to see that part of him yet."

"We live in close quarters; it would be a good thing if we all attempted to be a little nicer to one another." He smiled; damn it would be so much easier if she were attracted to this awesome guy.

"Tell you what; you're friends with the guy. If you can get him to cool it with the innuendo, and keep his eyes focused north of the border, then I'll do my best to be friendly." Steve smiled and Darcy smiled in return. "Goodnight." He turned to go as she opened her door. "Oh, and Steve…" He turned back. "…thanks, I could use a good friend."

As she closed the door behind her she sighed, what a crazy freaking day. It was after nine, she still needed a shower, and she hadn't had a chance to work on a list. Hmm, maybe she'd just call him Jake like the guy from Avatar. Or Tom he kinda looked like a Tom.


End file.
